Why can’t I decide I’ve seen enough
Of life, never mind I’m just a laughable 23?
What ought to be looked forward to, but
The gradual happening of life…the movie
You wished would end, the pages you wished would
The sadism behind every living moment
When I submit to its whims: cry when Life deems fit
And laugh in between for comic relief;
Bear children who are unlikely to see me as anything
But their Indian brown version of the ‘White man’s burden’;
Share “moments” with another, who is set for
An all too similar fate.
And if Death were to favour him over me,
For all my desperate longing
What should I do? Or rather, what can I do?
I’d join the billions, wandering through
An accumulated loneliness,
That was once fervently hoped
To be never gathered.
But like dust, it has gathered over my memories
I would think after all those years
When I try to count using my fingers
The way I must have
Once upon a time.